Enter the Devil
by SprayCanOfDoom
Summary: When Rick writes a manuscript on destroying dimensions and harvesting them for power, it's up to an abandoned Morty and his friend turned inter-dimensional bodyguard to find and kill the rogue Rick to stop universes from collapsing.
1. Chapter 1 - Intro

"Can't we just go home?"

"Things don't work like that, Morty. They never do."

Sitting on the top of an unfinished skyscraper, observing the stars and eating junk food with Morty was perhaps the best experience Red had in a long time. In fact, he couldn't even recall a memory or situation he had the same feeling of peace he had at that moment.

"We've gotta find him. He's out there, somewhere up there."

Gazing towards space, Red wondered himself where Rick had disappeared to. It had been well over five years since he vanished without a trace, Morty had only been 15 when the search began, but now he was nearly 21.

"We could just go home, forget about Rick. If he doesn't want to be found, he probably can't be."

"Impossible. We're getting closer, no matter how many years go by. When we began, we knew nothing. I've uncovered enough to lead us in the right direction, and I'm not stopping now."

The mood was changing, but Red was adamant about defending his views on never backing down from the search. Rick was the answer to the manuscript, the final piece of the puzzle to how everything worked. Bits and pieces had been hunted down by Red in Rick's formerly frequented places of interest, but nothing more had come up.

"I've come too far to stop, Morty. Rick's the answer, Rick..."

Red paused, unsure of what to say next, fearing Morty would think less of him.

"... is closure."

"Rick wasn't all that great, you know. Have I told you how he-"

"Yeah, I know Morty, I know."

Rick's past with Morty wasn't undeniable, but it wasn't the worst. Red's personal opinion of Morty was that he complained too much about his past with Rick. But, he said nothing, because Morty had been a huge help with information. What better person to help find an inter-dimensional traveler bent on bringing an end to the universe as we know it than that very person's grandson they dragged along on everything they did?

The endless sea of neon below them was a calming glow in the night, smaller skyscrapers below them reflecting the world around them, endlessly mirroring each other and the objects inbetween themselves. The two had admired this dimension's futuristic brutalist architecture for awhile, but it grew stale and depressing after awhile. Alas, after tonight, there was no more business to be had in this dimension, so Red and Morty decided to spend the last night in it enjoying the high sights one last time.

"I would say try therapy, but there hasn't exactly been time for that."

"Shut up, asshole."

"I'm serious man. After all this is done, find yourself a cozy 'normal' dimension or something to spend some time resting in, something comfortable at least. This, all this, it's gonna hit you one day, you know that right?"

"I stopped thinking about it after awhile."

Morty held his head low, pausing to think.

"You sure this will ever end?"

"Course it will man. It has to."

And with that, they both went silent, staring at the stars. Contemplating if it really would ever end, if they could just go home and get back to normal if it did.


	2. Chapter 2 - D-483

Red and Morty weren't the best pair to try and chase after Rick. Red knew little about himself, only that he was apparently a friend of Morty's at one point. He couldn't remember anything before the incident, so he assumed he had his mind wiped by Rick. Morty probably knew, but whenever asked, he just went silent. After all, who would want try and explain to a killer their past life, one where they probably weren't nearly as harmful as they are now?

The details of his past weren't important to him, anyways. Red was on a war path to find, and probably kill Rick. He had stripped him of a past, a normal life, and left him with a forced obligation to protect Morty.

The Manual Forced Compliance Protocol (MFCP) chip inside him wasn't the worst. As long as no harm befell Morty, Red would be okay. But if Morty, say, loses an arm; So does Red. If Morty dies, so does Red. If Morty even gets a scratch, Red's body is a mirror. Genetic engineering with microbes is good as anyone's guess, but Red assumed it worked somehow.

Rick was smart enough to not make it a two way street. Red's broken bones, acquired scars, even lost an eye just trying to make sure Morty doesn't die.

"Come on Morty, time to go."

Red's impartial to construction sites for hiding and planning. His favorite so far is when they jumped to a site where they were building a vast library. Wandering the large empty halls with glass walls while raining was a pleasurable, but rather short experience.

"The portal is going over there. Gather your things and I'll prepare the jump."

Rick was in possession of a handheld portal device so advanced it was seemingly infinite in power and capabilities of teleportation while making it seem as easy as pulling a trigger. Red's device was expectedly nowhere near as advanced as anything Rick could create, his device a small yellowing box with any number of buttons and dials on all sides but its bottom. A small green LED text display on the top displayed current coordinates and a field for entering new ones. Red had purchased it off of a colleague of Rick's back in their original dimension, E-109. He had conceived the design as an inter-dimensional way of traveling between alternate versions of the Earth. With modifications based on sketches and blueprints based on leftover designs of Rick's, Red had managed to build something at least capable of narrowing down dimensions to Rick-only dimensions, and being able to travel specifically to them.

Priming and setting the device required time, and power. Morty had stories of how Rick could and would portal in and out of any situation no matter the danger, Red could only wish they had something so convenient.

"Portal's charged, Morty. We leave now."

A blue portal opened up on the vast concrete in the area behind where they were sitting on the skyscraper. Morty kicked their trash off the side, and grabbed his tattered bookbag.

"Where to this time?"

"D-483, I got tipped off a Rick might have come across another page again. That will make what, 12 pages found by Ricks, and only 5 by us?"

"Who better to recover something than alternate versions of the person that created it?"

Guess Morty had a point there. Ricks had been finding pages of the manuscript for the dimension-collapsing device ever since they began hopping through portals. Most gave them up voluntarily, knowing a rogue Rick is something even Rick's can't stop. Some though, some had to be put down, and the Council chasing them afterwards isn't the easiest situation to outrun. Killing Ricks is always a last-ditch effort.

"Be prepared to act at least somewhat normal. No odd shit in this dimension, it's relatively close to how our original dimension was. I'd like to enjoy the time we spend there."

"When have I ever done odd shit?"

"Y-992."

"Oh, right. You didn't have to bring that up, y'know."

Morty was always a jackass towards the end of a visit to any dimension. Guess growing up on the run portaling through dimensions leaves you thinking visits are expendable and you can do anything you want since you're gonna leave anyways. I wouldn't blame him, it's good to have some fun once in awhile.

"I'm setting the timer to 10 seconds now. Triggers in 5."

Red dropped the teleportation device through the portal.

"10... 9..."

He always liked counting down the seconds, like an astronaut about to take off on a visit to the final frontier.

"5... 4..."

Morty never adjusted to portaling the 'archaic' way. Red clamped down on his arm while Morty slightly shook. Even he had to admit, hearing what bad timing did to the old owners of this thing always made him hesitate for a few milliseconds.

"1."

Red jumped and plunged into the portal, dragging Morty with him.


	3. Chapter 3 - Arrival

It was easy to forget what "normal" used to mean when you can't grasp the concept. Birds chirping in the air, the slow drone of cars in the distance somewhere, the sun shining down on them, a slight breeze tentatively touching their skin. They had arrived in a neighborhood somewhere in North America, from Red's guessing.

"Perfect. I'll get to finding where this dimension's Rick resides, it'll take time like always. Take a look around, Morty. Enjoy the sights."

"It's a neighborhood, Red. I'm sure I will enjoy looking at people mowing their lawns and cookie-cutter houses."

"Whatever man."

Red closed the portal he had unintentionally opened in the middle of the street, and walked with Morty down the road. A for-sale sign stuck out like a sore thumb to the pair, sitting in front of a run-down house.

"Perfect" Red thought to himself, "It's just what we need."

Kicking down its back door was easy, as they had done countless times before in many other dimensions. The interior smelled of must, and stale air.

"Home sweet home, Morty."

Morty only sighed, and walked to find a bedroom to dump his bookbag in. Red found that there was running water, but no electricity. He'd just cut the power cables and connect a pocket generator to the house anyways. Portaling might be really hard, but pocket dimensions to store equipment in is an easily-learned talent, given you have the right devices.

After electricity was running, Red got to work setting up brainwave interpreters to find where D-483 Rick was. It'd take time, but he'd find him.

"I'm going to go grab a burger or something."

"You just ate man, how are you hungry?"

"It's mid-day and we're squatting in an abandoned house, I want to at least feel somewhat normal."

"You've got your printer, right?"

"Yeah, I'll print some money out once I get there."

"Just make sure no one sees you, like last time."

Morty grabbed his handheld money printer from his bookbag. Tiny thing, the size of a credit card. Solves any need for any currency of any type, so long as you only use it for buying in small amounts. Any mass-printing and it starts repeating itself with serial numbers. Red had managed to swipe them a few dimensions ago, off of a dead intergalactic space traveler.

Unlocking the front door, he questioned just how normal this universe was. Every universe had a 'thing', something that made it stand out and be different. The last one had a history divergence in the 70's that lead to living in tall skyscrapers, while the rest of the world was desert. What would be the weird thing about this one?

Stepping outside, Morty took a moment to soak in the world around him. He did have to admit, it was somewhat peaceful staring at the aging houses while the sun shined from a clear sky.

Not a single person was seen on the whole street. He took a step down the two small concrete ledges that served as a platform to stand on in front of the door, and began walking.


	4. Chapter 4 - An Expected Visitor

"Weird."

Red had just finished setting up the brainwave interpreter devices in the garage and already he had found Rick. It didn't seem to be picking up anyone, or anything else except for Red and Morty.

He focused on pinpointing the location, somewhere in the Northern Midwest.

"That's a long fucking hike from here, of course." Red said aloud to the empty room around him.

Something crashed against the garage door, rattling it. He instinctively drew his sidearm, a high-powered light-beam pistol modified to fit inside an old Luger P08 he found during one of his stranger dimension trips. "It looks cool, alright?" was his go-to response whenever Morty questioned him on it.

The crashing and banging continued. Someone, or some _thing_ was out there.

Facing the garage, he sidestepped his way to the wall, and slid himself quietly along the wall, and hit his fist on the garage door opener. The rusty chain-driven motor came to life, loudly, and the door moved upwards.

Pointing his pistol towards where the crashing had seemed to come from, nothing was visible once the door had fully opened.

He stepped into the light shining into the garage, and was blown into the back wall by a very strong invisible force. His back connected with the drywall, and try as it might, it just couldn't stop two-hundred pounds of human flesh thrown at it.

Disoriented, and struggling to get up, Red couldn't move, pinned by whatever initial force that had tossed him like a limp pillow. His nostrils began bleeding, slowly streaming blood over his mouth and down his chin. The pistol that had been in his hand five seconds ago now lay across the room, in a corner of previously undisturbed cobwebs and dust.

Trumpets played a tune from seemingly nowhere and everywhere as Red's body screamed at him in pain, his nervous system finally being brought up to speed on what was happening.

The sunlight from across the room seemed to grow brighter and brighter until nothing else was visible, a high pitched sound ringing in his ears.

"Man, you look like fucking shit. Guess you were born that way or something?"

Red would recognize that voice anywhere. The grim reaper himself had appeared before him, come to take his life away, making sure his death wasn't peaceful.

"Rick Sanchez. It's been... a long time... since you last came around."

Red spoke with a heavy, labored voice through his mouth, spitting out one of his front teeth that had been shattered, blood following its ejection.

"You make a nice babysitter, you know that?"

"Morty... has been... most kind."

Rick stepped into the shade of the garage, no longer just a dark figure obscured by the bright sunshine. Like an archangel of some sorts, the light shone around his body like an outline. On Rick's left arm was a large glowing cylindrical device that covered his forearm.

"Got myself a new toy, see! I can do tons of shit you fucking 'side-characters' can't!"

Rick pointed the device at him, and Red began to move where his arm pointed to, dragging him all along the wall to demonstrate it.

"I can even do this!"

Rick dropped Red, falling to the ground like a sack of bricks. At this point, he was sure he had at least three broken ribs. As long as Red could survive this encounter, he had nothing to worry about with healing, he was sure.

While Red was taking a moment to process the pain his body had cranked up to full volume, Rick messed with the device, adjusting something on it before pointing it at the ground between the two.

Suddenly, a 14 year old Morty appeared before them, cowering confusedly.

"Look Red! It's Morty! Didn't you have a crush on this pathetic excuse for a human being back when you were both kids?"

Rick laughed sinisterly, and adjusted the device one more. It seemed to hum, and Rick pointed the device at the young Morty, who took a few cautious steps back from Rick.

The young Morty exploded, splattering blood everywhere. Rick grinned, a streak of blood having gone across his face.

"Oh right, you probably don't remember that."

Red could only muster energy to flip him off amidst the intense pain he was now feeling. Life was becoming a white hot sheet of a painful existence as he tried blinking away blood that had gotten in his eyes.

"Playing god is incredible! Amazing what I can accomplish when I'm not fucking drunk all the time, isn't it Reginald?"

Rick stepped back into the now blinding sunlight, a dark figure standing in the sunlight.

"Fuck you Red, but goodbye for now! Morty should be getting back soon, he should be able to help you out of your current health situation if he isn't as fucking incompetent as he used to be. Hope he isn't, Red, because everyone else is dead to you!"

And with that, Rick and the extremely tight hold on him had disappeared.


	5. Chapter 5 - Reflection

Morty sat in the cramped booth of the Taco Bell, staring at the girl across the street through the window.

Her red hair reminded him of Jessica, faint memories of her drifting through his mind. He sighed, and took another bite of his burrito, the spices in it dull to him no matter how much hot sauce he tried to pack into it.

Morty was depressed. He didn't want to travel anymore, he didn't want to be dragged along with Red the same way Rick had dragged him along. He just wanted to be _normal_.

Was that so much to ask for?

The dingy fast food joint was empty and quiet aside from the workers behind the register. It was old, falling apart at the seams almost, definitely not the best looking place to eat. It was a hideaway though, a place to take a moment from it all and escape to an imaginary life he lead secretly from Red.

In his alternate life he was a roamer, a soft-spoken traveler hiding under the brim of his hat, the breakout hero of any small situation, and a fan of starting fights when challenged. He often smoked cigars, helped those in need, and carried on his back only the necessary amount of tools to help him on his way. Some would guess his former life of a detective, or vigilante, anything "out-there" that so-called 'normal' people could think of.

He wished. All he was wearing was a dirty yellow T-shirt and holey jeans, both of which hadn't been washed in weeks. Maybe it was months. It was hard keeping track of time when you only have your existence to measure how long you've been alive, while your frame of reference of time changes every few days it seems.

Morty had tried running from Red, countless times in fact. It never worked, Red had many ways to find Morty if he ran off. His attachment was only a thread away from handcuffs, it felt.

Throwing his trash out, he grabbed a small plastic canister from his pocket and unscrewed the cap off of it, setting it on an empty table. Soon, the employees there wouldn't even be able to recall his features when questioned by the inevitable Council members that would show up.

Sometimes he wished the Council did catch him and Red. If they just gave up the information, everything they knew, they'd probably be let off. Or exterminated, because of their egos demanding only Ricks be capable of inter-dimensional travel. He didn't know, so he didn't ever commit truly to ever sabotaging anything to get captured.

Red was a jack of all trades anyways. He'd find a way to get himself out of the Council's possession, after all, he had managed to stay five steps ahead of them all this time after all. It was a blessing and a curse in Morty's eyes.

"Have a good day, sir." One of the cashiers rattled off as he opened the door.

Morty stopped to stare at him a second, having interrupted his train of thought.

"Yeah, thanks, you too."


	6. Chapter 6 - Catch and Release

Red was going to black out. He wasn't going to die here, not if he could help it.

Waiting on Morty for any longer and he'd arrive to a body he doesn't know how to dispose of with technology he doesn't know how to use. He owed it to Morty to not die here. Against the will of everything his body wanted, he hauled himself up from his slump, hoping his shock and adrenaline from the maneuver lasts long enough to fix himself before the pain seriously kicks in.

Holding his chest with his left arm, he stumbled into the kitchen where he had left most of his emergency equipment for situations like this. Scrambling through his duffel bag, he grabbed the pocket dimension manipulator and opened up a hole to his storage area.

Shoving papers and miscellaneous objects out of his way, he cleared off the medical table in it and prepared the clinical machines beside it for automatic surgery. Dripping blood onto the extremely clean surface of everything, he focused on the contrast of blood red on stark white as he could feel the morphine kick in.

It took a few minutes until completion, but he knew that good 'fresh' feeling afterwards. Medical technology is quick and easy, if you know which dimension to steal from.

Red couldn't dwell on healing long. After assuring that repairing himself had been successful, he began searching for something else in the pocket storage dimension. He opened a pitch black metal crate and grabbed a high-powered light-beam shotgun and strapped it to his back. Opening another crate, he disengaged the cryo-cooling apparatus inside it and took out a small black box, colder than ice.

"You're not getting away fucking this time" He said to himself as he quickly undid the latch on the black box. Taking out a small chilled cube, he shoved it into his pocket and grabbed an unlabeled green paper binder from the desk in the room.

No seconds to spare, Red rushed out of the storage area, hitting the close button on the pocket dimension manipulator. Running out into the street, he grabbed the small cube from his pocket, now glowing a bright green and heating up rapidly.

Standing in the bright sun, he threw the cube as hard as he could at the ground. It shattered into a million fragments, that were, upon closer inspection, even tinier cubes. The cubed fragments flew into the air, disappearing from eyesight. Red checked his watch, still 9 seconds left.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

And before his eyes, the atmosphere lit up with a green grid, stretching across the sky. At first appearing with large squares, the grid seemed to make itself smaller and smaller, until the clear blue sky was tinged with a light green color, pulsating every few seconds.

"This is it. I've finally got him."

Rushing back into the garage, Red turned his brainwave interpreters back on, this time at full power. The Rick in South Dakota or wherever was small news now. Staring at the old-school CRT screen on his "brain-box", as he called it, he didn't blink until it found Rick Sanchez. _The_ Rick Sanchez.

Now somewhere on the West Coast, he didn't seem to be going anywhere fast. " _Good, I've cut off his power source too._ " He thought.

Testing his own equipment, Red tried opening a portal to E-109. Nothing. Just a circle on the ground, might as well be an aesthetic choice for the floor.

Perfect.


	7. Chapter 7 - Do Not Lay Waste to Homes

"What the FUCK is going on Red!" Morty yelled with a tone more demanding and panicked than inquisitive.

"Morty, we're leaving now. Prepare for an in-world warp in five minutes."

"Did you see the fucking lights show outside? Why the fuck do you look like you climbed out of the thunderdome?"

"I used the Dextrix Cube, Morty. I trapped him. He can't go anywhere and this is the closest we've ever been." Red, sounding annoyed, focused on searching his pocket storage area for anything remotely useful in a life-or-death situation.

"I don't even know what that means, Red! Maybe instead of shooing me away whenever you work on something, you should FUCKING TELL ME ABOUT IT!" Morty was definitely panicking as the implications hit him like a hundred-ton train.

Red paused his frantic and rushed searching, stood up, and grabbed Morty by his shoulders.

"Look into my eyes Morty. This isn't the time to fucking lose it. You are allowed to lose it when you're alone at night in the months afterwards, when the only threat to your wellbeing is the crushing thought that you couldn't have survived, that maybe you shouldn't have survived because everyone struggles with their own mortality at one point or another." Red spoke with a calm but stern voice, while Morty only managed to shake uncontrollably.

"Stare into my eyes, and tell me with a straight face that I don't have a plan, Morty. That we're going to die, that we're going to fail after coming this far. Now, calm the fuck down or I will sedate you and throw you into a pocket dimension while I handle this myself. Do you really want to miss this?"

Red had slaved over how he would handle this situation. He still wasn't fully prepared, D-483 was more of a rest stop along an extended trip across many dimensions to acquire things necessary to call himself 'fully prepared'.

"Look Morty, we've both known this day had to come eventually. Rick would fuck up and break his silence. At least, I've known it would happen. Morty, trust in me."

He let go of Morty's shoulders. Morty's face could only project fear, but he watched it slowly morph into a face of determination.

"I'm ready, Red."

"Good. Get your shit and prepare for an in-world warp in five minutes. No more delays from now on."

Morty walked out of the kitchen and down the hallway, off to find his bookbag.

Rifling through nearly every pocket dimension he had, Red tried to find the one thing he knew would ensure their survival, and a good ending for them both. He had hidden away an old-fashioned H80 auto-targeting rifle somewhere. Stripped off of an old abandoned intergalactic warship they roamed around during a trip, Red had spent months tuning and modifying it to break through any type of shielding, which would be very un-Rick of Rick to not have any.

H80AT rifles were highly coveted on the black market, which Red and Morty were all too familiar with. Highly coveted for good reason, too, as not only were they beautifully designed rifles longer than five feet, they were completely untraceable and very easy to modify. Originally designed as anti-spacecraft weaponry, owners soon found out it only took some welding to detach it from its housing and carry it around, powered by a quantum-battery backpack rather than generators. No longer in production, Red had always planned on hocking it for a really high price and splitting the difference with Morty so both could 'retire' easily in whatever dimension of their choosing.

In the 13th pocket storage area, Red finally found it still in the heavy lockbox he locked it in months back. Grabbing it, he took off the shotgun from his back sling and put on the battery pack for the H80AT.

"Morty, it's time to go." Red only got silence in return. Walking down the wood floored hallway made him sound like a refrigerator with legs, the weight of the pack and rifle had to add at least an extra 50 pounds alone.

He opened the closed door at the end of the hallway to see Morty crouching in the middle of the room, his backpack sitting open in front of him.

Morty was sobbing, and as Red approached saw that he was staring at a picture of his family smiling, Rick having placed his hand on Morty's shoulder in the photo.


	8. Chapter 8 - Anomaly

The Rick with a black coat towered above Red, his head blocking the sun.

"Get up."

Red had no memory past comforting Morty in the abandoned house. He felt he had been asleep for days, weeks maybe. Moving his limbs felt detached, almost surreal.

"Why did you show up? What happened?" Red managed to blurt out.

"You know why I showed up. I always show up when stuff doesn't go how it's supposed to."

U-5276 Rick. The 'corrector' Rick. Also lovingly known as the prophecy Rick. Red recalled his profile on him almost immediately. This Rick was somehow able to keep tabs on everything, predicting events in every Rick universe accurately, and showing up when they didn't.

"What's your five cent magic ball prediction today? Here to tell me how I'm going to die? Again? I figured the last five times it didn't happen would spoil your fun."

Red sat up from the pavement he was laying on, swiping the rocks stuck to his back off of his shirt.

"You actually did die, asshole. The last time you sent me a backup of yourself was two years ago. I swiped one from six months ago stuffed in your stupid outdated pocket dimension thing. Took me two weeks to crack it, why can't you just use easily broken pocket universes like every other inter-dimensional traveler?"

"Because I'm not a dumbass, and the only other person to travel inter-dimensionally is yourself, Rick. You and the millions of other Ricks out there."

Red sighed. Back to square one. No memory of the confrontation, probably no weapons or devices.

Standing up, he groaned and stretched, observing his surroundings. He and Rick were standing on a long even stretch of tarmac going straight two ways. A decrepit concrete two-story building sat nearby, large windows on the side facing the stretch of road blown out, only small broken pieces remaining.

"Why the hell did you bring me here?"

"This is where all your shit was found, including your warp beacon. Figured you knew something about it, but since you can't seem to come up with an answer either, guess you're just boned."

Glaring at him, Rick handed him his duffel bag. The only other familiar sight to him right now, Red searched through it and found mostly useless miscellaneous objects and devices in it. His stuff, but only some of his stuff.

"If you-know-who asks, I didn't revive you. You had some special automated shit or something, make something up."

"I always was good at bullshitting, wasn't I?"

Red chuckled, at both his small joke, and at his situation. Dumped into the middle of nowhere, without a memory or useful tools, it really was a manual reboot on everything he had accomplished.

"Seen any lost cattle recently?"

"Haven't seen your Morty. If he was dead, you probably would be too."

"What the hell do you mean 'my' Morty?"

Rick glanced away, stammering.

"I've gotta go. Goodbye, Red."

"No, tell me what you were going to-"

Rick opened a portal, and walked through it, it closing shortly after.

"-say."

And just like that, Red was alone. He began walking towards the building, but his left arm brushed against his torso, and he felt something on the bottom of his arm.

Holding his arm in the sunlight he saw, clear as day, the word "ANOMALY" inscribed on his arm, as a scar. As he stared at the scar, memories flooded his mind, triggering vivid flashbacks to everything that had happened.


	9. Chapter 9 - The End?

"You're nothing but a fucking anomaly!"

Rick yelled at him, as he stood perched on top of the building.

"Do you hear me you piece of shit? A fucking anomaly!"

Rick was standing, nude, on top of a McDonald's, acting incoherently and yelling at bystanders. Red stared at him from the sidewalk below. Large, dark sunglasses and a blank expression hid his face.

He kicked one beer bottle off of the roof, a few more rolling off of the roof afterwards in its wake. They hit the sidewalk, shattering, spreading glass shards over most of the concrete.

After being trapped in this dimension, and losing horrendously because of it, Rick went straight to alcohol. It hit him harder than it really should be able to hit an ex-alcoholic. Relapsing turned him from the most feared and hated person in Red and Morty's lives to nothing more than a mere child, incapable of taking care of himself.

"Come down, Rick. Don't make me come up there."

After the ensuing battle between worlds, Rick became broken. Red chipped him with a GPS device and wouldn't sleep for days afterwards, trying to keep track of him, seeing if his act would slip up, give him one reason to kill him. No longer showing any signs of strive for genius, or any genius really, Rick became "just" an alcoholic, always in too much of a stupor to care about anything but his next drink.

Red and Morty set up shack in D-483. It was familiar, normal, and they no longer had a reason to travel so much anymore. D-483 Rick initially stuck around, just to laugh at E-109's failure and defeat, but got bored and went back to the Northern Midwest after a few weeks.

Red pulled out an oddly-shaped gun out of his pocket, and held it up at Rick. Aiming for his torso, he fired.

Rick fell from the top of the roof onto the glass below, slicing himself up and embedding glass shards in himself. Knocked out, Red opened a storage dimension and kicked him into it. Red didn't care, and neither would Rick after a few hours of sleep.

With Rick in their grasp, Red and Morty weren't sure what to do. They had legal access to a Rick portal device, according to the Council. With stopping the rogue Rick, the Council decided to give them amnesty for past Ricks killed, on the conditions that no more would be killed.

Morty was mostly found at bars, nearly as drunk as his father. He wanted to forget it all. Running, killing, the capitulation of all their efforts. But mostly the killing he witnessed.

Red was the odd one out. He contacted Stanford, a colleague of Rick's in certain dimensions. This Stanford didn't manage to create portaling technology, at least on a handheld scale. The log cabin was nice to spend evenings in on cold winter nights, which Red often did.

Stanford spent hours conversing with Red about other dimensions, which he sometimes invited Stan to visit every now and then. Morty wanted out of the "sidekick" business, Stan was a welcome change in attitude and skills.

Walking down the street to find somewhere appropriate to portal to the log cabin, Rick's words echoed in his head. "Anomaly." The drunk ravings of a failed and aging man, or someone trying to speak clearly through muddled thoughts?

He'd figure it out later.


	10. Chapter 10 - YJHI IWT QTVXCCXCV

Red's mind was a barrage of memories, thrown at him in random order. Blanking in and out between events, it seemed like only static filled the void. Why was his memory so unreliable?

He felt comatose. He could feel his own body moving. His _real_ body. Distantly, he felt the cold hard touch of metal and steel. He couldn't wake up, he couldn't revive himself from this indefinite state no matter how hard he willed himself to.

Memories battered at his brain like an angry salesman knocking on a door. Focusing was impossible, probably why he couldn't wake up. Feeling himself slipping away once more into the black void his consciousness had become, he only had moments to recall how he had gotten into this situation.

 _Pistol. Rick rogue. Yellow triangle. Dimensional device. Morty. Blue shirt._

Red fell back into the void once more, trying to scream the whole way.


	11. Chapter 11 - Author's Epilogue

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

 _Initially when beginning writing this, I had an idea for pulling off a 50 chapter (ish) length Rick and Morty fanfic that really bended the rules set in the show. I didn't intend for this to end so shortly as it did. The overall tone was supposed to be dark, edgy almost, but not depressing. I wanted to really "jar" readers with how far I could take something down the rabbit hole of how fucked up stuff can get._

 _The problem is, I can't really write. I've never written anything before in my life that wasn't a required essay already or a short story I never intended on doing anything with. For this project, it was my first, and it failed because of that. I'm admitting my mistakes and even now realize how rushed I tried to make the story progress just to skip to the "interesting" bits. But, I figured out, there actually aren't any "interesting bits" when writing anything. Just an interesting way to write stuff, which I haven't fully grasped yet._

 _For the one or two repeat viewers I know exist out there, lurking, I'd like to say:_ _ **Thank you.**_ _Seeing however many views I got every few days was always a fun highlight in this chaotic ride._

 **Red and Morty will return someday, with a vengeance!** (Just as soon as I can actually write!)


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